Of Tigers, Jaguars, and Criminals
by EyeofMazikeen
Summary: Jim and Sebastian go for a nice, relaxing drive in the country. Pretty much a plotless car sex fic. MorMor-riffic.
1. Quiet Country Nights

Written for my darling Mormorific muse, ** yeah. im. awful**. If you haven't checked out his stuff go do it now! This'll still be here when you're done, I promise. Beta'd by **Vivi Vivacious**, my grammar dalek who exterminates my passive voice and misspellings.

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me. It's probably a good thing though, as I've proved that I can't handle them responsibly at all. : )

**Warnings:** Pretty much plotless carsex smut. Mentions of torture. Other than that, nothing too racy. At least not for MorMor.

* * *

**Of Tigers, Jaguars, and Criminals**

"C'mon Tiger. Faster. Faster!" Jim's lilting voice trembled with barely contained ecstasy. Normally the sound of his mastermind urging him on would arouse Sebastian to no end, but this time he could only roll his eyes and growl.

"God, Jim. This is why we never leave the fucking city." Sebastian Moran's rough voice rumbled through the interior of the Jaguar, hoping that Jim would take the hint and realize that they shouldn't take the damn car any faster. At 193 km/h, they were positively tearing their way down the empty country road. His boss had offered him assurances that there would be absolutely no traffic, but how could he possibly be certain? Sebastian wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know, and didn't want to trust their lives to whatever scheme Moriarty had cooked up to keep other vehicles out of their way.

Stealing a glance over at the smaller man, Seb found himself unsurprised to see that Jim had begun sulking. His lower lip extended in a delicious little pout, and if Sebastian hasn't been hell bent on keeping his eyes on the road he would have leaned over and given it a little nip. As quickly as he had executed it, the consulting criminal still caught his glance, and a licentious smile quickly replaced the pout.

Pale, dexterous fingers wandered over to Seb's thigh, stroking the inside lightly through the material of his trousers. "Sebby, let's go faster. Please?" Jim lilted the last word in a whispered whine that made the ex-Colonel's strong fingers convulsively tighten around the black leather of the steering wheel. The steel grey Jaguar X351 wasn't the nicest car he had ever stolen, but it made the top five. It would be a shame to crash it, especially if they were inside. But Jim had that unquenchable fire burning in his black eyes, the one that told Sebastian there would be no way his mastermind was giving up any time soon.

"I'll make it worth your while," he purred, continuing to trace complicated patterns on the inside of his tiger's leg. All Sebastian's blood rushed towards the touch, magnetically drawn to his boss's coaxing hand. Molten silver pooled in his abdomen, the intensity of his desire burning him from the inside out. The smell of expensive leather and Jim's even more expensive cologne surrounded him, sent his head to swimming even as he desperately tried to concentrate

"Mmmnh. Boss... that's, ah..." the sniper steadied his grip on the steering wheel, grasping tightly to the tangible in front of him to keep his mind from wandering away to the ethereal promises of the madman next to him. He heard, rather than saw, Jim undo his seatbelt. Suddenly that lithe torso was pushed gently up against his left arm, recalcitrant lips brushing against the outer edge of Sebastian's ear.

"That's what, Se-bas-tian?" The way Jim drew out every syllable of his name sent sinfully delightful tremors down his spine. Soft lips caressed the sensitive skin at the juncture of Sebastian's ear and neck while his masterminds digits moved up his thigh, settling between his legs on the bulge pressing against the sniper's zip.

"Aah. It's a.. ah.. bad idea, boss." He managed to choke the words out as Jim slowly worked his palm over Sebastian's trapped and rapidly hardening length. Jim responded to his caution by leveling him an unimpressed, flat stare.

"Drive faster, Sebby. That's an _**order**_." Swallowing thickly, his tiger complied. He kept his eyes fixed on the rush of pavement before them as the needle slowly moved up the gauge. 196 km/h. 200. 202. Jim's hands worked at his zipper, the friction sending pulsing bolts of pleasure to coil tightly in his abdomen. 204. 207. As soon as he had freed Sebastian's length from the confines of his trousers and pants the slender man pulled back, dark eyes shining as he admired his work. Jim gave both the odometer and Sebastian's cock an approving smile, and ruffled his tiger's ash blonde hair approvingly.

"Keep going," The sniper couldn't see the look on Jim's face, or how wide those black pupils had gotten, but he could hear the unrestrained lust in his partner's lilting tone. 209. 214.

In an instant, his mastermind was almost completely out of his seat; belt undone and lithe body arched over the console seat divider between them. 219. Sebastian had only a moment to be thankful that despite its power the model had an automatic transmission before that all too-clever mouth began working him. Silken lips brushed gently against his head and that wicked tongue darted out to trace small, delicate circles around the slit at the very tip. The sniper groaned, and stole another glance at their speed. 221.

Jim dove straight down onto his aching length, tongue pressing against the thick vein on the underside as he slid the entirety of Sebastian down his narrow throat. Silken heat surrounded him, and the overwhelming waves of sensation threatened to drown out anything and everything else. The criminal's gifted lips continued to work around him, adding just the right amount of resistance as Jim worked up and down Sebastian's shaft at a torturously slow pace. Despite their speed, the sniper half considered taking one hand off the wheel and tangling it in Jim's black hair, forcing those teasing lips to move at the same speed he was being coerced into driving. Before his body could get away from him, Sebastian bit through his bottom lip. Pain always helped to focus him, but blood always turned Jim on. Fortunately that demonically angelic face was otherwise occupied.

Pale cheeks hollowed and Jim's head bobbed up and down, and the sniper swore that the consulting criminal was trying to kill them both. He desperately fought the urge to let his head roll back and his eyes fall closed. Instead, he focused his eyes on the odometer. 237. He backed off the accelerator and the madman pulled off him with a soft wet pop. Pristine white teeth flashed in the darkness as they clicked just millimeters from Sebastian's cock in warning. In response to the wordless threat he continued to push, their speed slowly climbing back into his boss's acceptable range. 240.

The criminal smiled approvingly and lowered his mouth back to Sebastian's erection, taking him in deeper and sucking him even harder than before. 244. The sniper could feel the beginnings of tremors in his thighs as his building climax started strangling out any remaining control he had over his body. Well, at least it was going to be a hell of a way to die, with Jim's lips wrapped around him like that.

As Seb started to feel the the raw, tidal power of orgasm begin overwhelm him, Jim reached between his legs and grasped the very base of his cock in a tight circle of thumb and forefinger. Seb gave a phenomenal groan as the criminal continued his hold but pulled back off the sniper's length. Dark eyes glittered as Jim wiped the back of his mouth on his free hand.

"There, that wasn't so hard now was it?" The lean criminal gave a husky giggle and tightened his hold around Sebastian but a fraction. "Just look at what we've managed to accomplish." Jim's voice was a breathy whisper as he nodded towards the odometer. Seb's eyes widened. 250 km/h. Shit. Still keeping his grasp tight around Sebastian's cock, Jim nuzzled into the side of his neck and purred.

"I only wanted to see if the top speed really was electronically limited, darling." Thick eyelashes fluttered against Seb's jugular, and he involuntarily bucked up into the tight ring of Jim's fingers, desperately seeking more contact from his partner's tormenting hand. "Looks like that's a yes." His mastermind gave a disappointed huff against his sniper's neck.

"Mmmh. Now I have to hack the onboard computer before we go home. How trite." How the smaller man managed to sound bored at a time like this was beyond Sebastian's ability to comprehend. Here they were, doing top speed in a stolen luxury car, barrelling down some godforsaken country road while the other man held his captive cock at attention.

Seb growled deep in the back of his throat, reverberating unsatisfied lust and frustration through through the car's interior. Jim blinked slowly, twice, and looked down at his hand as if he was just now remembering what he held. A diabolical smile crept over his slightly swollen lips, and he tightened his grip again, causing a keening noise to tear its way free from Sebastian's throat.

"Oh tiger. You've been so good. It's not your fault the stupid car won't go any faster." Jim allowed the rest of his slender fingers curl around Sebastian's length, and gave it a delicate pump. All the sniper could do was keep his eyes on the road and moan, hoping to implore his tormentor to more contact through the wordless entreaties he knew the smaller man liked so very much.

"Would you like me to give you your reward now, Sebastian?" Jim's voice was velvet, and Seb wanted nothing more than for that talented mouth to wrap itself around him again and finish him. Or to be buried to the hilt in the heat of Jim's ass. Or for those fingers to tighten around him and stroke him through to completion. Anything. Anything but this high speed, satisfactionless madness. Another nearly frictionless thrust of Jim's hand drove home that a verbal response was required.

"Ngggh. Godbossyesplease." His voice was hoarse with frustration and need, the raw sound of it making Jim smile wolfishly.

"Well, 'Bastian. Good things come to those who wait." The smaller man's fingers withdrew, leaving his sniper exposed and aching for release. The previously tormenting digits flew over the screen of Jim's mobile, which he placed on the dash.

"Follow the map, tiger." Sebastian growled low and deep in his throat, sheer vexation rumbling through his chest. He fought down the overwhelming urge to simply stop the car in the middle of the road and grab Jim by his too-neat dark hair and force the diminutive mastermind to damn well finish what he fucking started. But Jim, simply by virtue of being Jim, must have noticed it the set of his shoulders or whatever other ridiculously subtle tell he had because the dark haired man leveled him with a burning glare. Seb could feel the heat of it on the side of his neck.

"Don't even think about it. You stop this fucking car and I swear I will tie you to the bed, get you this hard and leave you unsatisfied for a full week, Seb." The edges of the smaller man's voice were dark and sharp, and Sebastian knew that it wasn't an idle threat. He had learned that Jim rarely made idle threats the hard way. At least he wouldn't have to spend three days handcuffed to the radiator to learn his lesson this time. He growled again, making sure Jim was fully aware of his displeasure, but one broad hand obediently picked up the phone from the dash. Sebastian eyed the directions, and a frustrated whine escaped.

"Bloody hell Jim, that's at least another fifteen minutes away." His voice came out sounding more needy than forceful, and Seb had to bite his already bloodied bottom lip to keep from complaining further.

"Well some of us have things to do, handsome." And with that Jim's ivory digits began undoing the fastenings on his trousers, ivory white skin flashing against inky black material. Seb could only catch hints and glimpses out of the corner of his eye, but when he heard the telltale skuff of expensive fabric against fabric, followed by the slight sticking sound of skin against leather he knew Jim had at least partially divested himself of his trousers. A few more rummaging noises and a quick glance revealed to Sebastian that Jim had pulled something out of his coat pocket.

Suddenly, the saccharine sweet smell of strawberries hit the air, and Sebastian's mouth involuntarily watered. He didn't even like strawberries, let alone that horrid artificial crap. But Jim and his flavored fucking lubes had his senses too well trained. Jim gasped out an obscene moan, and the wet sound of the mastermind slicking his own fingers sent tendrils of electric bliss pulsing through his nerves, tightening around the base of his spine and tracing invisible fingers up his twitching cock.

"Besides... ah... Sebby." His criminal groaned and shifted position. "If you keep... nnnmmmh... driving at this speed, it won't be aaaaah..." The remainder of Jim's sentence disintegrated into a pleasured groan. His sniper could hear the subtle, slick sounds of Jim's fingers entering and stretching himself. Every muscle in his abdomen and thighs tensed as he thrust himself into the empty air beneath the steering column, desperately seeking out non-existent friction. The ache for release had become an almost unbearable pressure in his groin, and Sebastian was well aware that he was reduced to panting by the simple effort of driving.

The sound of Jim driving his fingers into himself was deafening, each wet thrust accompanied by a wanton moan from the smaller man. Sebastian could feel his own keening noises of desperation forming a lump in his throat as he tried to choke them down. The effort of holding them in made it hard to breathe, but he'd be damned if he'd vocalize for Jim if the smug Irish bastard wasn't doing anything to earn it.

The scene seemed to play out over a small eternity, Sebastian's hands clenching and unclenching on the soft leather of the steering wheel as Moriarty set to fucking himself at a rather brisk pace. By the time he started moaning his sniper's name in time with each buck of his narrow hips, Sebastian was damn near ready to climax without Jim having to lay a hand on him. The smell of leather, strawberries, Jim's cologne, and sex permeated his mind, and his tongue flicked over his bitten bottom lip sending sweet pangs of pleasured pain shooting straight to his throbbing cock. Every sense was filled completely by Jim, save his sight which was fixed to the road. Every nerve hummed with exquisite frustration, and while Seb was distracted his voice fought it's way past the barrier in his throat.

"God DAMNIT Jim," he thundered. Seven days of torment be damned. Sebastian knew how to pick locks. This had to end before he...

The phone chirped its arrival warning and interrupted his train of thought. Noting that they had reached their destination (which looked to be a small empty field, of all fucking places) it took all Sebastian's considerable self control not to slam the car immediately into park. Instead, he decelerated as gently as his deeply-frayed patience would allow. A soft sucking noise from beside him let him know that Jim had removed his fingers, and their Jaguar had been in park for no less than five seconds before Sebastian's hands moved over his own body in a flurry, removing the safety belt and tugging desperately at the zip of his trousers.

As the smaller man beside him raced to strip off the remaining layers of his expensive suiting, Sebastian peeled his trousers and pants the rest of the way off. He left his collared shirt on with a smirk, knowing that Jim loved to take care of that part himself. One broad hand sought out the catch to lean the seat back, and he had just gotten himself settled with his boss sprang out of the seat next to him and wiggled his way onto the larger man's lap.

Jim straddled him without hesitation despite their cramped conditions, steering column pushed against the smaller man's back. He didn't seem to mind though, as he adjusted himself and grasped Sebastian's thick length by the base, positioning it at his slicked entrance. Tantalizingly, he rubbed the tip of the sniper's cock against his slicked opening a few times before steadying himself and pushing down onto Sebastian millimeters at a time.

Sebastian's hips jutted up enthusiastically to meet him, and with a strangled sigh Jim sank down fully onto his sniper's long-neglected cock. The heat and pressure of Jim crushed a startled moan from his sniper's lips, and it took the larger man a second to gain his bearings as tremors of satisfaction rippled through each muscle. The lean criminal went to bite into his tiger's shoulder, only to look surprised that Sebastian's shirt remained. Dark eyes narrowed, and he quirked an elegant eyebrow at his partner as he stopped all motion. One long finger played with the top button, circling it at a slow, sensual pace.

"And what's this for, hmm Seb?" Jim rocked his hips slightly, providing more of that delightful, necessary friction. Sebastian loosed an animalistic growl in response, but his mastermind simply rocked against him again and admonished "Words, tiger. Use them."

"Wanted you t-to... ah ... be able to open your... mmmph... p-present," he managed to stutter out between thrusts of Jim's hips. In response, the dark haired man grasped either side of the white fabric and ripped in opposite directions. Buttons clattered across the interior of the car, and not for the first time Sebastian swore the lithe criminal had loosened the buttons on all his shirts simply so he could tear them off.

Instead of ripping the shirt the rest of the way off, Jim writhed against his sniper as he pushed the shirt down off Sebastian's sturdy shoulders to his elbows. Quick hands worked behind the sniper, twisting the back of the shirt into a rope and knotting it at the small of his back. Though not terribly secure, the shirt did vaguely pin his arms to his sides. And while not inescapable by any stretch of the imagination, it did get Jim's point across.

"Just for that Tiger, no touching," the black eyed man purred, before burying his teeth in Sebastian's newly exposed skin. The juncture of his neck and shoulder bore the permanent imprint of his mastermind's bite, and he could feel the familiar warm trickle of a rivulet of blood travel down his chest as Jim's sharp teeth reopened the ever-present wound. Once the skin was broken, the dark haired man placed a flurry of kisses across the bloody mark before bringing his lips up to Sebastian's.

The sniper moaned into his boss's crushing kiss, coppery tang of his own blood and the indefinable essence of Jim mingling in his mouth, shooting through his system like a dangerous narcotic. The sensation caused him to buck his hips helplessly into Jim's crushing heat, moaning an entreaty against the smaller man's lips. Chuckling into his partner's mouth, Jim began to move again, sliding himself up and almost off Sebastian's length completely.

His cock and throat tightened in tandem, as if Jim was somehow strangling both. Instead, his mastermind's hands clutched tightly at his shoulders. The smaller man used the broad, scarred, steady surface to leverage himself, once again pushing himself up and down along Sebastian's length. The sniper could feel the delicate flutter of muscle around his cock as the apex of each thrust pushed him into his mastermind's prostate. Each downward stroke ended with a throaty groan of "Oh, Colonel".

His former title on his current boss's lips set the final spiral towards climax into motion. Desperate for Jim to come first he pressed a calloused hand between them, seeking out the heat of Jim's length where it pressed up against his stomach. He worked the hardened flesh rapidly in time with Jim's movements, stopping every few strokes to brush the rough pad of his thumb over his lover's shamelessly weeping slitted tip.

"Colonel... ah... S-seb! Seb... Colonel MORAN..." Jim continued to repeat his sniper's name and title over and over again, like a litany of tiny prayers. Or curses. Sometimes with Jim it was impossible to tell. Every time he buried Sebastian's cock to the hilt inside him, he arched his back slightly and his sniper had to fight to obediently keep his hands at his side. All he wanted to do was wrap his strong fingers around Jim's narrow hips, pressing until bruises rose on tender white skin, firmly holding that tormenting ass in place as he fucked his way to completion with Jim screaming his name.

Strong but slender thighs supported Jim's weight as he pulled himself up off Sebastian until only the sniper's head remained encased in him. Tightening his abdominal muscles, he clenched around the sensitive crown of Sebastian's cock, eliciting a startled, wanton cry from the man beneath him. He repeated the action again, and his sniper let his blonde head roll back onto the seat rest. Steel blue eyes clenched tight in a mixture of pleasure, frustration, and concentration. It was hard to tell in the dark, but the tension in his partner's shoulders told Jim that he'd be unsurprised if Sebastian's short nails had torn furrows into the expensive leather seat. After a torturous moment of stillness Jim began to fuck himself on Sebastian again, this time at a desperate, frantic pace.

As the smaller man rapidly approached completion, he leaned his dark head down to Sebastian's ear and growled "I swear to every god you don't believe in that one day, one perfect day, I will fucking kill you, Sebastian Moran." It was as close as Jim ever got to whispering endearments. And it was without a doubt true. Not that Seb didn't enjoy being alive (especially right now, thank you) but it was inevitable. Jim was destruction personified, and he would happily feed his life to the torrent of carnage that was his dark eyed madman when his time came. So much better than dying for queen or country. Sebastian's last gasp would go to feed the insatiable beast he lived, and would invariably die, to serve.

"I've been waiting my whole life for your knife in my heart, Jim," he growled. At least at this moment, it felt like the truth.

He brought his head back up to gaze at his lithe, slim torsoed partner. The criminal's normally tamed hair was in wild disarray, creating a kind of inverted halo effect around his face that sucked away what little light was available. Jim looked hauntingly beautiful, fine boned face upturned and thin throat exposed as he rode Sebastian with the same immense focus he gave to all his 'great works'.

It was sheer bliss to see his mastermind like this; a thin sheen of sweat covering his pale chest, dark eyes slitted in pleasured focus, wisps of black hair sticking to his forehead. Yet somehow, the smaller man still exuded an air of control, of self possession that Sebastian found exceedingly captivating. Jim fucking Moriarty. Even naked, wanton, disheveled, and fucking himself senseless he carried himself like he deserved to be crowned the rightful king of everything.

Suddenly those black eyes flew open, and bored down into Sebastian's. The intensity of their gaze made Sebastian's cock twitch inside his mastermind, which made Jim writhe down against him in response. His sniper's calloused hand continued to work his length as Jim continued to thrust.

Sebastian's lack of tenseness, in fact his rather poetic admission of acceptance, stoked the fire in Jim beyond containment. He could feel the beginning convulsions of orgasm sweep through his system, and he had just a moment to shout Sebastian's name in warning before the wave crashed over him; hot, trembling, and blinding white. The feel of Jim's cock emptying into his hand and across his stomach was the trigger Sebastian had been waiting for. As Jim tightened around him, his sniper gave a few last stuttering thrusts and followed him into the dazzling, nerve tingling release of completion.

Together in the darkness, they lay spent against each other, the only noises the soft gasps of their mutual breathing as they came down from the impossible high together. Once Jim had regained enough faculties to wind his arms around Sebastian and undo the tangle of his shirt. Once freed, Sebastian's strong arms wound around Jim's waist, one hand resting in the small of his back. In response, his criminal slid lithe hands against his sniper's scarred chest, delighting in the slight tremor of aftershocks that rippled through his muscles.

Moments passed in silence before Jim finally rose up off his sniper's lap, unsheathing his partner and moving back to the passenger seat. Sebastian sighed at the loss of contact, but consoled himself by digging his pack of cigarettes out of the console between them. As he fumbled in the darkness for a light, Jim rooted around on his side of the car, coming up with a packet of tissues. After a few quick swipes to clean himself up, he tossed the remainders of the packet at Sebastian. When he noticed his sniper's unlit cigarette, he went back to rummaging about on the floor of the car.

His boss rooted around on the floor and produced a lighter from his crumpled jacket pocket. With a flick, he lit Sebastian's cigarette. His sniper inhaled gratefully, taking in a lungful of smoke, sex, leather and Jim. Black eyes fixed on him, gaze almost affectionate as Jim drank in the sight of his tiger enjoying himself. A few comfortable, quiet minutes passed before the slight brunette finally spoke.

"So. I was right. Say it." Sebastian rolled his head against the leather rest, fixing his partner with an amused grin.

"Fuck you, you smug prat." Jim quirked an eyebrow as his sniper took a final, deep drag off his cigarette before cracking the window and flicking the butt away. He used the remainder of the tissues to clean himself the best he could before pulling his pants and trousers back on. His torn shirt hung open off his shoulders, but there was no helping that. Fucking Jim and his goddamn shirt-ripping fetish.

"But you **are** right." Seb half sighed, half growled his agreement. "Fucking you in the PM's car is better than "ordinary car sex". Fucked if I know how you got your hands on it, though." There was a bit of a resentful grumble in the sniper's voice. When Jim had first posited the idea to him he didn't actually think that the madman would follow through just to prove a point. Jim simply fixed him with one of his trademark bemused, smugly superior smiles.

"I mean, this is a bit flamboyantly criminal. Even for you, boss." Sebastian eyed his mastermind carefully as the smaller man went through a reverse strip tease. Not as erotic as taking all that expensive clothing off, but it was something to see Jim go from naked and in disarray to crisply dressed. Even if the illusion was slightly ruined by a stray crease here and there.

"Oooh. Sebby. Don't be a sore loser. You owe me a forfeit; making you a sore loser is my job." Jim chuckled. "Now take us here," After some fiddling with the device Jim thrust his mobile at Sebastian, who read the map it displayed carefully. "Let's go. I really want to see how bulletproof this behemoth is. Drive. And if I catch you doing under a hundred and eighty I'll take each mile out of your hide, tiger."

"I thought you wanted to hack the onboard to see if we could get this heap to do over 250?" Jim waved his hands in a dramatic gesture of dismissal.

"Boring. I'd rather shoot it now." His sniper growled a wordless assent, and Jim rummaged through the taller man's jacket and procured another pair of cigarettes. Once lit, he passed one to his sniper.

"Let's go, Seb." Sebastian ran a quick check to make sure everything was in order before turning the key and letting the Jag spring back to life. Once the car was started a faint thumping began from the very back. Black eyes widened momentarily in surprise, before a vicious grin split Jim's face. His mastermind giggled, and even Seb had to chuckle.

"Sounds like our rat is awake. That's lovely! I was so hoping we wouldn't have to cut him up too badly to get him to wake up," Jim chirped. Sex did wonders to improve his normally unstable mood. If their captive was lucky, the afterglow would last until their next destination. If not, well, that would be fun too.

"I wonder if he was privy to the show," his sniper mused. Funny thing it would be, to wake up concussed in the trunk of a car to the sounds of your captors fucking.

"Ooooh. I do so love to have an audience," Jim purred.

"Well either way, it will still be more fun if he's screaming when we shoot up the car," his sniper stated. "Though we did date night backwards. If I remember correctly, it's supposed to be activities THEN sex."

"Ugh. So linear and predictable. Why not drive, fuck, maim, indulge in a little foreplay, shoot the car, kill, and fuck again?" Sebastian tilted his head thoughtfully, considering the course of actions Jim had just detailed. An image of Jim, covered in blood and writhing beneath him in the back of the Jaguar flashed through his mind and his recently spent cock gave a twitch in response.

"Sold. We should make this date night thing a weekly occurrence. At least until the Government Car and Despatch Agency runs out of vehicles," Seb chuckled.

"Perhaps, tiger. Perhaps. Or we could do firebombings and ice cream," the smaller man lilted in response. Seb answered with another warm chuckle, dark countryside flying past them as the finished their cigarettes as they enjoyed the sound of whimpering and thumping in the trunk.

Some folks delighted in romantic candlelit dinners. Others liked chocolates and flowers, or other paltry tokens of affection. But Jim...well... his tastes were more in line with the ex-Colonel's. Seb was delighted that he found the one other person in London that preferred to be romanced with firearms, kidnapping, torture, and stolen cars. He smiled at the smaller man beside him, black eyes closed in a rare moment of calm happiness as he tapped his fingers in time to the drumming from the Jag's trunk. Yes, date night definitely needed to become a regular thing.

* * *

Fin!

Depending on a variety of different circumstances, I may actually make 'date night' an ongoing series. If you have anything that you'd like to see Sebastian and Jim get up to please feel free to drop me a line or leave a review. No job to big, no job to small! They're steal, destroy, or fuck just about anything. Y'know, because the couple that plays together stays together.

~Mazi.


	2. Hungry Like The Wolf

_**Is there anything more delightful than psychopaths in almost-love? I didn't think so. And as such, date night has become a series instead of a stand alone. You can blame / thank TaylorPotato for the lovely ideas that spawned this. There is a bit of non-sexual gun content towards the end, so please be warned. The violence is largely non-graphic, but there is a mention of blood so I just wanted to put that out there so nobody gets triggered.**_

* * *

The evening had at least started somewhat normally. Or at least as normal as they ever got. Jim was in the kitchen, setting fire to about a half dozen severed hands. Sebastian gave the slightest of protests, simply to keep up appearances sake. Jim had rebuffed him, of course (It's important Seb! They have to all be in similar states of post-mortem desecration or there's no way even the pathetic minds at the Yard will believe that this was serial instead of random...) and had gone on with his project. Meanwhile, his sniper settled in on their couch, flipped through crap telly and tried his damndest to breathe through his mouth to avoid as much of the charred flesh smell as he possibly could.

Things got a bit odd when Jim poked his soot-smeared head out of the kitchen door and demanded that Sebastian pop off to the corner store and pick up three very different brands of cigarettes and some sandwiches for later. Normally the wild eyed madman didn't get hungry until hours after his experiments were over, but his sniper supposed that it could have been the smell of burning flesh that had whetted his usually non-existent appetite.

Not that he had any real proof that Jim actually ate people, mind you. But at that point there wasn't anything that Sebastian would put past the smaller man.

The cigarette and sandwiches run took a good deal more time than expected; the brands Jim wanted weren't all sold together at the same store. Seb found himself running back and forth between shops, furtively checking his mobile for the string of abusive texts from Jim to appear when the smaller man realized how long he had been gone. Half an hour later, he still had nothing. No complete collection of cigarettes, no messages from Jim detailing his stunning level of incompetence. Nothing.

After another fifteen minutes of searching with no insulting barbs flung his way, Sebastian's concern for Jim overrode his concern for himself and he went back to their flat with his mission only two thirds finished.

When he arrived home the kitchen was suspiciously quiet, and the sniper half expected to be barraged by scorched fingers and put-downs. But a quick and methodical (military, even) search of their shared residence showed that Moriarty was gone. What he had left in his place for his sniper to find was cause for equal parts concern and excitement.

A finely tailored tuxedo was laid out on their shared bed, with a handwritten card placed on top. The tight, coiled letters randomly sprawled out into looping curves before contracting again. It was as if Jim's lilt was trying to force its way onto the paper.

Date night was fun. Enjoyed the car trip. Decided we should try again, see if similar results are had. Meet me at Benares at 7:30. Wear this. Bring your favorite pistol. See you at dinner.

xoxoxo

Jim

P.S. I can't believe you couldn't track down all my cigarettes. Fucking imbecile.

Sebastian gave his typical exasperated, growling sigh and put the note card down. When he reached for the tux to start getting dressed it tumbled off the end of the bed and landed face down, exposing yet more writing.

P.P.S And don't you dare make that fucking 'ooh Jim's being all brilliant and my tiny mind is frustrated by his amazing intellect' noise at me, mister.

All Sebastian could do was laugh.

It took Moran less time to get dressed than it did for him to pick out a suitable pistol. Asking him to pick a favorite gun was like asking a parent to pick a favorite child; it could be done but it did require some careful consideration.

He finally settled on the Sig Jim had gotten for him back when they were just at the employer / employee stage of their relationship. It was what had kicked off their whole 'courtship', if anything as bizarre as what they did could count as courting. After a job that his mastermind was particularly pleased with he presented Sebastian with a box. Inside was the Sig Sauer P226, a set of dogtags, and the right hand of the previous owner of both items. Sebastian sometimes wondered if the old Lieutenant General ever knew why he was tortured and killed; of all the things that fucker had done to deserve it he doubted that "dishonorably discharging Sebastian Moran" would have occurred to the man as the reasoning behind his demise.

Jim certainly wasn't the type to appreciate sentiment, but he sure as fuck loved good story. So Sebastian holstered the pistol under his new, expensive jacket and called a car to come pick him up and take him on whatever 'date' Jim had set up for them.

The car that pulled up to the curb was one of their usuals. Sebastian didn't mind driving, but Jim insisted that they be chauffeured everywhere; usually so the little shit could get all types of handsy in the back seat without his sniper having to worry about city traffic. Other times it was just so that Seb was available to hand him things. Phones, guns, pens, gum, knives, anything really. He'd learned to leave the house quite well stocked. Jim seemed to enjoy treating him like a human swiss army knife.

Sebastian gave a nod of recognition to the driver; Josaphat was one of their regulars. He was easily the sniper's favorite if he was being driven alone. The man never tried to make small talk. That could have been the lack of tongue, but Sebastian decided to credit the man anyway and assume it was due to strength of character rather than inability. Besides, he had removed no few tongues in his day, and knew from personal experience that people could still find ways to be absolute twats even without one.

They traveled to the restaurant in silence, which Sebastian immensely enjoyed. There was no such thing as quiet with Jim around. The man was a walking cacophony of sounds; always muttering to himself, drumming his fingers, popping his gum. Even when the dark eyed criminal managed to get to sleep he was still noisy; murmuring threats and plans, tossing and turning, and occasionally grinding his teeth. His sniper learned to enjoy the rare quiet moments he had alone. In fact, he enjoyed himself so much during the ride that he almost regretted it when they arrived at Benares, but only almost. He loved Indian food. And he supposed that his mad little boss was alright too.

Upon entry he was immediately struck by the atmosphere of the place. Fancy, but not opulent like he was expecting. The decor was somewhere between modern and classic, with long white linens covering every table. The maitre d' took his name and immediately had one of the well-dressed staff guide him to the center of the restaurant where Jim was waiting at their table.

The first thing Sebastian noticed was exactly how damn good his boss looked. Tailored tuxedo, dark hair perfectly arrayed, clean shaven. He caught a whiff of the smaller man's cologne and nearly growled right then. That was definately "fuck me" cologne. Shit. Was this going to be an actual date? The idea felt too strange and surreal to be true.

The second thing that the sniper noticed was that for as good as he looked, Jim was wearing one of his very fake faces. His dark eyes were almost doe-ishly wide, pink lips parted in breathy anticipation, and an all too sweet smile grazed the corners of his mouth. When he noticed Sebastian approaching the table Jim popped up from his seat and positively launched himself at his sniper, standing up on his toes to wrap his arms around the taller man's neck before planting a chaste kiss on his lips. Sebastian stiffened in confusion. What the fuck was going on?

"Vic! Sweetie! I'm so glad you're here," he chirped, gazing adoringly up into Sebastian's cobalt eyes. The lilt was gone, replaced with a posh Londoner accent. "Happy anniversary, Tiger." Jim went up on his toes again for another soft kiss.

As he pulled back, the smaller man allowed the mask to slip, for just a second. Dark eyes narrowed, glittering with their usual criminal mischief. His sweet smile twisted slightly, becoming a smug grin. The moment passed quickly, but it was enough for Sebastian to read his Jim's intent. Whatever the fuck was going on, they were playing some sort of game, and the sniper was expected to go along.

He wrapped his arms protectively around Jim's slender shoulders and kissed the top of his head. It was a gesture he never would have been able to get away with normally, but his mastermind didn't tense under his touch. In fact he snuggled a little bit closer and hummed happily. Good, he was getting this right. They stayed frozen like that for a second, pressed together, until their server coughed politely.

"If sirs would like to take their seats, I could read the wine list and bring you both something fitting for the occasion." Jim actually had the (fake) decency to look around and blush before quickly diving into his seat. An embarrassed chuckle escaped his lips, and his cheeks colored slightly as he murmured a response.

"Ah... yes. Um. Thank you. That'd... That'd be lovely." Jim awkwardly rested his elbow on the edge of the table, settling his chin in his palm as he gazed lovingly at Sebastian. God. This entire scene was altogether creepy. The rugged blonde had seen his boss act harmless plenty of times, but he'd never had it directed at him before. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. There was a terrible air of uncertainty that set the hairs on the back of his neck to bristling. The only times Moriarty was ever this nice was usually right before he shot someone or blew something up. Or both.

Hell, this version of Jim even consulted Sebastian about the wine choices before finally settling on a nice pinot noir to start with. He smiled at their waitress, complimented her suggestions and was all around pleasant and charming. His sniper began counting the minutes until the other diners in restaurant spontaneously combusted in tandem, or the notoriously low-profile madman across from him lept out of his chair and started randomly shooting the place to pieces. Either scenario, far fetched as they both were, still seemed more likely than having a nice 'normal' date with Jim fucking Moriarty.

Once the wine had been delivered and they both offered their approval to their server, Jim leaned over the table and beckoned Sebastian closer. The sniper bowed over slightly, bringing their faces as close together as he could with the table between them. He supposed they just looked like a couple having an intimate conversation. Which, in a way, they were.

"Glad you could make it, Tiger. I don't suppose you brought my fucking cigarettes, did you?" The fake accent was suddenly gone; Jim's usual lilt dancing over the whispered syllables. Heat flashed behind those dark eyes, and Sebastian allowed a self-satisfied smile to cross his lips as he removed three packs from his jacket pockets and placed them on the table. No use in telling the man he had procured the final pack from Josaphat on the ride over; he'd never hear the end of it if he admitted to only partially finishing his mission.

"Why Sebastian! You're not completely useless after all." His mastermind gave another one of his saccharine sweet smiles, but this one failed to touch his almost black eyes. Those dark orbs still burned into Sebastian's with an intensity possessed solely by Moriarty-on-a-mission. Right. So much for the date. This was work. Thank god. The idea of this whole elaborate set up actually being for a real honest-to-goodness date made the sniper strangely uncomfortable. It didn't matter how long they had been 'together', or the myriad things that had done with (and to) each other. A real date just seemed... well... weird.

"So," he murmured, keeping his voice low, "what's this all about then? Table at the center of the room. That's not you. You like a dark corner best. Want to be the center of attention?"

"Oh tiger. You know me sooooooo well." Jim was positively purring, voice seamlessly transitioning from haughty and irritated to liquid sex. The smaller man ran the side of one foot up his sniper's calf, trailing it upwards until it rested against the inside of Sebastian's muscular thigh. It lingered there as Jim idly moved it back and forth, slowly stroking his sniper's leg through the expensive cloth of his tux. The criminal's smile became wicked, and he sucked on his bottom lip suggestively as he lowered his eyes, gazing up at his assassin through a veritable forest of dark lashes.

Sebastian felt the familiar pull of desire immediately, his lust a burning thread being drawn taut through his abdomen. He fought back a slight shiver as Jim moved his foot again, gently running the soft leather toe of one obscenely expensive oxford across the juncture of the larger man's legs, making sure to caress his rapidly filling cock.

"God you're easy. It's an almost Pavlovian response at this point isn't it?" Moriarty increased the pressure against Sebastian's groin, while he drew his lower lip back between his teeth, worrying at it with a light pressure that drove his sniper nearly mad. All he wanted to do was to pull Jim across the table and give that pouty pink mouth a proper biting. Jim must have read it in his face, as the damnable Irish bastard let his lip slip from between pristine white teeth, instead replacing it with the very tip of his tongue as he traced over the slightly swollen flesh.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, darling." The criminal's voice remained low, but his lilt was gone, replaced once more by his fake accent. "Here comes our mark." Dark eyes flickered over to a rather strict looking man being seated a few tables away, and Sebastian turned his head to follow Jim's gaze. Fortysomething, average height with a slender build, thinning salt and pepper hair close cut. The man was very well dressed but, clothing a bit out of style. The killer in Sebastian could very nearly feel the nervous energy coming off the man in waves; his hands started fidgeting with the silverware and every other item on the table as soon as he was seated. Flight risk. Unpredictable. If Jim wanted him to shoot the man in a crowded restaurant there'd likely be some collateral damage. Not that the sniper minded. He was just considering all the options.

To his surprise, when he turned back to the brunette mastermind to ask about the plan, the smaller man had disappeared from his seat. He had been so focused on his target that he didn't even feel Jim remove his foot from between his legs. Seb looked around the restaurant quickly, casing the room to see where his boss had gotten off to. There was no sign of the diminutive criminal anywhere in the crowd. Just as Sebastian started to release a frustrated sigh, he felt two warm hands slide up the insides of his legs and about damn near jumped out of his skin. In response, Jim gave him an admonishing pinch. Seb could perfectly imagine the smug grin on the criminal's face as he was forced to bite back on vocalizing any complaint, lest he draw the attention of the entire restaurant, mark included. Oh. This was certainly going to be an interesting night.

Jim's hands were moving in earnest now, lithe fingers tracing complicated patterns up and down Sebastian's legs. Every few passes, those elegant hands would brush up against his hardening cock. Biting back the moans came easily; silence is imperative in a sniper's line of work. Still, Jim did love to test his limits. After a few more teasing caresses along his sniper's thighs, the criminal's fingers began moving against Sebastian's length in earnest. The larger man became uncomfortably aware of how rapidly his well fitted trousers became tight and confining. His boss being the sadistic bastard that he was probably had them taken in just to enhance the effect.

Suddenly the hands pulled away, and Sebastian took the momentary reprieve to catch his breath and try to regain his composure. He managed to take in two deep, steadying breaths before his mastermind's next unexpected onslaught. Jim moved his head up between his sniper's legs and started lavishing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the hard flesh running down the inside of Sebastian's leg. Each motion was enhanced by Jim giving a throaty, needy growl as he desperately tongued at the larger man's length through the expensive black fabric. The ministrations of Jim's tormenting mouth left a warm damp patch along his trousers, and Sebastian had to fight with every ounce of self control to keep from throwing his head back and growling in return. After he created a solid trail of well-mouthed fabric along the blonde's swollen length, Jim pulled his head back and blew lightly up and down the wetness there, causing a deep chill to run through Sebastian at the sudden change of temperature along his cock.

"I'm sorry sir, but did you hear me?" A polite yet firm voice snapped him back out of the pleasured trance Jim had put him in. The sudden realization that someone was close beside him nearly had the rugged blonde reaching for his gun, but fortunately a soft nip from Jim along the juncture of hip and thigh stopped him from following through on his instinct.

"I... ah. No. I'm sorry. I didn't." He wanted to sound curt, dismissive, anything really to get the server to go away. Instead, he simply sounded winded. Or maybe a little hoarse.

"I asked if your dinner companion had left his order with you before departing? If so I can take them to the kitchen for you." Before Sebastian got a chance to tell the server to fuck right off, Jim started nipping at the inside of his thigh again. One long bite, followed by a short nip, then two long bites. Each press of teeth into skin sent a delicious electric feeling surging through his abdomen, straight to his groin. Wait, was that... morse code? The pattern repeated, and the ex-soldier recognized it as the pattern for the letter 'y'. Holy fuck. Was Jim planning on biting his dinner order into Sebastian's thigh? The thought filled him with both frustration and an immense wave of arousal, which was rather typical of his reactions to Jim.

"He did, yes." The words sounded rough as he forced them from the tightness in his throat, but if the server noticed she paid it no mind. She simply regarded Sebastian patiently as she waited for their orders. Cobalt eyes furiously scanned the menu, trying to narrow down his choices so it didn't take an embarrassingly long time to translate Jim's love bites into his dinner order. Vegetarian dishes were right out; the diminutive criminal did love meat when he actually bothered to eat. Seafood was unlikely, as was chicken. That left lamb.

"Yes, my partner will take the Lamb Seekh Kebab..." Sebastian's voice trailed off as Jim bit down viciously on the inside of his thigh. The pressure made the snipers toes curl inside his costly leather shoes, and he would definitely be sporting a bruise in a few hours. As Jim pulled back the sniper's cock throbbed in time with his new wound. So, that was the wrong choice.

"Ah. Nevermind. I meant I'll have the Lamb Seekh Kebab, and my partner will have the..." his eyes flickered over the menu again, picking out the only other suitable lamb dish. "Yes. He'll have the Saag Gosht. No reprimanding teeth bit down into his flesh, so Sebastian took that as a sign Jim was happy with his order. The server merely smiled and nodded before turning and heading back towards the kitchen.

"Jesus fuck, Jim." Sebastian kept his voice low, uncertain if Jim was able to hear him but not willing to risk giving away his position if he raised his voice. "This is something bloody else, even for you." The criminal merely answered him by licking a broad strip up Sebastian's leg until he reached the sniper's zip. Delicate hands steadied themselves on Sebastian's thighs as Jim gently started to work at the button closure with his lips. Each pass of friction across his groin was enough to make Sebastian's spine tingle and he had to fight to keep his moan contained. This was torture. Pure, unadulterated, exquisite torture. The diminutive criminal was obviously feigning clumsiness, taking the opportunity to positively grind his face against Sebastian's length as he worked desperately at the closure of his trousers.

After several maneuverings of teeth and tongue, his mastermind had worked his zipper fully down. To stop himself from panting, the rugged blonde started to take long breaths in through his nose, holding it for three seconds before breathing out again through his mouth. An old sniper's exercise. He never thought he'd have to use to keep himself from shouting aloud as his psychopathic, homicidal boss sexually tormented him in one of the poshest restaurants in London, but hell. At least Her Majesty's Service hadn't lied when it told him he'd be prepared for anything at the end of his term. That list included covert public oral sex now, evidently. Which, to be fair, was far more fun than anything he had gotten up to in the army.

Finally, those torturous fingers slid inside his trousers, roughly freeing his painfully erect cock from the confines of now-rumpled expensive cloth. Long fingered hands tugged insistently at the waistband of both trousers and pants, and Sebastian shifted his weight so Jim could pull the offending cloth down just enough to fully expose his prick. The criminal ran the back of his fingers up and down the exposed underside of his cock almost lovingly, and Sebastian was unable to fully suppress his answering shudder. He gave a tentatively experimental thrust of his hips and started when the entire table shook; wine glasses rattling and fancy silverware tinkling against their placemates. An elderly couple to his left gave him a concerned look, which he returned with a thin smile and a shrug. They seemed to write the incident off to clumsiness, and Sebastian learned a valuable lesson. Movement of any kind was not an option, unless he wanted to draw the entire restaurant's worth of eyes in his direction. Mad bastard probably, no definitely planned this. The sensation that ran through him as he pondered the idea of Jim beneath the table, sucking him dry as he tried desperately to keep any of the other diners from noticing nearly reduced Sebastian to tremors. God. This was insane. Perfectly, wonderfully, amazingly, sexily insane.

The tension in his lower body was almost unbearable as Jim leaned his head forward and licked a firm, wet trail from the base of his shaft to the crown, taking pains to press his tongue against the sensitive ridge just underneath the glans. The criminal took a few moments to circle his tongue around the sniper's weeping slit before he pushed himself down fully onto the blonde's cock. Rooted fully in Jim's hot, slick mouth Sebastian bit his bottom lip to the point of bleeding and managed to transmute a pleasured groan into what he hoped passed for a bored sigh. As his boss began to hollow his cheeks and started moving his head in a gentle bobbing rhythm, Sebastian caught the damned server approaching again. What in the bloody fucking fuck could she possibly want? He tried his best to greet her with a smile befitting their cover, but when Jim once again pressed his tongue into the sensitive cluster of nerves just below the head of his cock the best he could manage was a grimace.

"Ah. Sorry sir. But I was wondering if perhaps I could bring you and your partner something else to drink?" As Jim continued to lavish his cock with attention, Sebastian perused the menu. All the words blurred together as his boss relaxed around him, allowing the sniper's cock to collide with the back of his throat before swallowing convulsively around it before slowly pulling back. In response, Sebastian identified and ordered the most expensive bottle of champagne out of spite; one small act of defiance in the face of the exquisite torture he was undergoing. As the server turned to walk away, Jim took the opportunity to fully swallow his sniper's cock once more, lightly grazing his teeth against the sensitive vein on the underside as he slowly pulled his way back up. Just as the waitress was nearly out of earshot, Jim nipped gently at the retracted foreskin that had gathered around Sebastian's exposed head. The unexpected sensation wrang a short cry from the sniper, and the server immediately turned around, concerned.

"I'm sorry sir, was there something else I could get you?" Her eyes were full of confusion and concern, and Sebastian would have laughed at her doeish expression if Jim hadn't once again busied himself sucking on his sniper's cock as if the mad Irish bastard was intent on somehow removing his soul through the tip of his dick.

"Ah! Ju-just water. P-please." His stuttering words did nothing to dissuade the server's concern, but his very best 'cold killer' look got her to trot back away to the kitchen to retrieve their beverages. Jim continued to skillfully work his cock with tongue, teeth, and lips. One of the criminal's hands moved off its steadying position on Sebastian's thigh, and the sniper prepared himself for some new punishing lesson in self control when he felt his phone vibrate. He dutifully ignored it; his entire brain was devoted to stopping himself from just mindlessly thrusting into Jim's mouth, propriety and hit alike be damned. But his phone became insistent, buzzing angrily at him two more times before he finally gave up and fished it out of his pocket. Retreiving it was no easy task thanks to the rumpled state of his pants and the fact that Jim's amazing ability to suck cock had reduced his motor skills to that of a fumbling, horny teenager. Once he had his mobile in hand and checked his screen he let out a strangled laugh. Of course, all three messages were from Jim.

**AH. Sebastian. Fuck. Your cock tastes soooo good. - JM**

**God, when the tip of your dick hits the back of my throat it's the most amazing feeling. I want to choke on you forever. - JM**

**It's impolite to ignore your boss you know. I'm trying to be kind here. After all, I thought you liked my dirty talk. - JM**

With slightly shaky fingers Sebastian managed to type up a text back.

**James fucking Moriarty. You're the only man in London that can manage to talk dirty with a throat full of cock. - SM**

Jim chuckled a bit around him at that, vibrations sending sparks careening along the sniper's every nerve, heat pooling low in his stomach. He repressed the answering shudder as best he could, but failed to contain his groan as another barrage of messages began pinging into his phone.

**Easy, Tiger. This is just the beginning. - JM**

**God, the filthy things I want you to do to me. I'm just aching for you to make me beg for it, Sebby. Do you want to make me beg for your cock inside me? - JM**

**I don't do that for just anyone you know. But you feel so fucking good when you split me open. I can't help but implore you to fuck me like some common slut. - JM**

That was about all Sebastian could take. The electric heat that flowed through him had set every single nerve ablaze with need. The sniper could feel his orgasm looming, ready to crash over him at any moment. He gave a low groan under his breath and slightly pushed his hips upward, seeking further friction and eventual release from the warm, tormenting mouth of his mastermind.

Jim pulled back in response, tightly ringing off the base of Sebastian's cock with his thumb and forefinger. He held his sniper still, gradually increasing the pressure of his grip until the tide of his impending climax receded, leaving only pools of warmth in his abdomen as evidence of its existence. Once Seb relaxed Jim returned to lavishing the larger man with attention, roughly tonguing the head of his cock and lapping up the copius amount of precome leaking from the tip. Again, the blonde's phone began to vibrate with incoming messages.

**I swear Tiger, if you come down my throat before the champagne even gets here there's going to be hell to pay - JM**

**I'm enjoying myself far too much to let you end this. I'm going to use this magnificent cock of yours to fuck my throat raw. - JM**

**Fuck dinner. I don't care if this place has a Michelin star; nothing up there could taste as good as you do. - JM**

Sebastian's hips began to tremble with the effort of keeping himself from wantonly thrusting into Jim's mouth. He was dangerously close to climax again, and only the return of their waitress with champagne and water saved him from shooting down the criminal's narrow throat. Jim continued to work him ruthlessly, but Sebastian was preoccupied enough with making small talk with their server that it helped him fight back the cresting waves of pleasure. Yes, his partner had been gone awhile. No, he was sure that he'd return before their courses arrived. Thank you, but there was no need to worry about pushing the order back to prevent the food from getting cold.

She finally departed, seemingly satisfied with the blonde's answers, tersely delivered though they were. Sebastian almost sighed in relief as she walked away, but the instant she moved away from the table his phone began to vibrate again. Inwardly groaning, he very nearly dropped his phone as Jim hollowed out his cheeks and bottomed himself out, taking Sebastian fully into his throat. Then his damn phone vibrated again. The sniper closed his eyes and shivered with the effort of keeping himself contained, and when Jim finally pulled back he used shaking fingers to check his new messages.

**When we get home I'm going to ride you so hard that your knees buckle and your eyes roll back in your head. - JM**

**I'm going to tie you down, ring off this lovely prick of yours, and use it fuck every part of myself on you for hours. Arse, mouth, everything. - JM**

**In fact... God Sebby. I think I might come just from doing this... - JM **

And with that, Jim once again took Sebastian in, lips grazing against the dusky blonde hair around the base of his cock. Without warning, the criminal began rapidly swallowing around the heated length in his throat, each contraction of his muscles squeezing the head of his sniper's cock in all the right ways. How could Jim even fucking breathe like that? The thought of Jim, oxygen starved, dark eyes flashing, red lips and chin slicked with saliva sent spikes of pleasure shooting through him. He felt his orgasm cresting, and Jim seemed to hold his position impossibly long, the heated tunnel of his throat beginning to convulse and long fingers clawing into Sebastian's thighs as he obviously became starved for oxygen. God. The mad bastard was doing it. He was actually choking himself on Sebastian's cock. The thought made the sniper want to howl, to bury his hands deeply in Jim's raven hair and fuck his face until the smaller man either passed out or finally delivered Seb to completion. His damnable phone buzzed again, and the blonde nearly threw the fucking thing across the restaurant in frustration. Instead, he checked his messages, finally grateful for what he found waiting for him.

**You'd better come soon, Tiger. It's going to be the only opportunity you get to do so for quite some time. - JM**

The text message was as good as permission, and after a few seconds of unrelenting pressure and suction Sebastian emptied himself into Jim's mouth with a silent cry. His vision blurred out at the edges, room becoming washed in a hazy white glow. The best the sniper could do was to fight down the aftershock tremors as Jim continued to mouth him until he was completely and utterly spent. When he finally came back to himself, Jim was seated across from him, smiling demurely and sipping on his champagne as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. Frantic, Sebastian gazed around the room for a minute before realizing that nobody in the restaurant seemed to be paying them any extra attention. He slumped in his chair, hands shakily reaching under the white tablecloth to readjust and refasten his trousers. His sexually frustrating yet all too wonderful madman of a boss simply chuckled lightly, taking another drink of champagne while staring directly into Sebastian's eyes.

"Well, I guess that's an 'anniversary' dinner to remember, hmm?" The diminutive brunette flashed a predatory smile. Sebastian supposed that he should attempt to deliver some sort of witty quip or cutting remark, but the best his orgasm scrambled brain could come up with was a whispered yet vehement "Fuck." As Jim continued his husky, amused chuckle Sebastian scanned the room again. After all, the criminal had indicated to his sniper that there was a job to be done, and some mind blowing oral under one of the most expensive dining tables in London certainly wasn't excuse enough to leave the intended mark alive.

Sebastian saw his target, still shifting uneasily a few tables away. Right. Well at least Jim hadn't managed to distract him with the wiry man buggered off to god-knows-where. That would at least save him having to track the bastard halfway across the city before calling it a night and joining Jim back at their shared flat. But that was the last of the sniper's relief as the nervous gentleman tossed a handful of notes on the table next to his half empty plate and rose to leave.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, but Jim seemed unconcerned. He produced his own roll of banknotes, tossing a significant amount down on the table before indicating to Sebastian that he should rise and prepare to leave. They had almost reached the entrance to the restaurant when their waitress caught up with them.

"I'm sorry sirs, but your plates have just arrived. Was the wait too long? I do apologize, but your food is ready now if you would just follow me, please." Her tone was panicked, and Jim rolled his eyes before slipping out the door after their intended hit. Sebastian bit back a curse. Of course. He was expected to not only make the messes but clean up after them as well. Pulling together his very best "friendly boyfriend" persona, he tried to soothe the worried server in front of him.

"Ah! Miss. I'm so very sorry, but a family emergency has come up. Trevor's father has been admitted to the hospital, and we have to leave immediately. There's more than enough money on the table to cover our meals, plus a generous tip for your lovely service. Now please excuse me, but I really must go..." He trailed off as he turned sharply on his heel and paced after Jim as quickly as he could without drawing any more attention to their antics. Fucking Jim. Secrecy and subtlety were things that he only valued occasionally; sometimes he'd just plop his infuriating self in the middle of a job, acting about as subtle as a sledgehammer. There was no sign of the smaller man around the door to the restaurant, but when scanning the sidewalk for clues to which direction the madman had chosen the sniper caught sight of a discarded black silk bowtie at the entrance to the alleyway behind the restaurant.

Fuck. Whatever was going on, Jim had gone down into that dark alley alone with their hit. This could not be good. Sebastian rounded the corner, and once he was sufficiently cloaked in the nighttime shadows he pulled the Sig from underneath his jacket. Slowly, he stalked down the narrow street. He made it about two dozen paces before the quiet sound of sobbing hit his ears. The sniper pressed his back to the wall and continued his approach cautiously. He couldn't see what was going on yet, but if there was crying involved god only knew what the criminal had done. Or god forbid, had done to him.

As Sebastian edged his way down the sides of the buildings, two figures came into view. One was the distinct outline of his boss; he'd know that lean silhouette anywhere. Jim's slender frame was slumped against the brick wall of the opposite building, and Sebastian could just barely make out his trembling shoulders in the dim light. That meant the other figure facing Jim was their mark. Not good. Not good at all. Nobody ever got to come face to face with Jim. At least not without Sebastian perched up somewhere high, ready to blow the heart right out of them if they so much as made one sudden move. But here they were in this dingy alley, with Jim on the ground and this odd, nervous stranger hovering over him. Instinct kicked in. Sebastian sprinted the last few paces, closing the gap between himself and Jim's assailant as quickly as he could. One broad hand clasped the stranger's shoulder, while the other leveled the barrel of his pistol at the back of his head. A swift kick to the back of one knee caused the man to stagger forward, landing painfully in a kneeling position.

"Oh god oh god! Please don't hurt me! I w-was just trying to h-help him, honest! T-take my wallet too! I won't t-tell anyone, I s-swear. Just l-let me go!" The man's voice was shrill, panicked. Definitely not the voice of someone who had enough presence of mind or physical force to put Moriarty down. Jim's responding chuckle confirmed what Sebastian had just begun to suspect; this whole stupid bit was a setup. That meant his heart attack was pretty much for nothing. Great. Way to waste a perfectly good afterglow.

No matter how many times he saw the smaller man act, it was always surprising to watch that expressive, fine boned face morph so easily from one persona to another. In an instant the sniveling victim was gone, and in his place was Jim Moriarty, crime lord of London and man to be feared by all.

"Oooh," he crooned sarcastically. "How very nice of you to join us, Tiger." Seb merely bit his lip and rolled his eyes. Typical villain that he was, Jim would certainly want to monologue before he ordered the man's death.

"Now. Do you know who I am?" The wild eyed brunette spat down at the man kneeling before him, eyes ablaze with untempered fury. "DO YOU **KNOW** WHO I _AM_!?" he roared, voice echoing down the empty alley.

"No... n-no. I do-don't! I swear. I-I have n-no idea..." the kneeling man whimpered, breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps. Jim merely crouched down, bringing himself eye to eye with their sniveling captive.

"I am the man that owns London, you pathetic little shit. And you took up three minutes forty seven seconds of my time last Tuesday, counting out your pathetic change at that wretched little corner market counter. One look at you and I could tell you didn't need to, you were just being incon-fucking-ciderate."

"Three minutes of my time costs more than you'd earn in a lifetime, you worthless fuck. So I've decided that you can pay me with your life." Jim's cheshire smile widened to almost frightening proportions. "I'd say this would serve as a warning against being so slow in the future, but you don't ha~ave one." he singsonged, as the man's eyes grew wide.

"So I guess all I have to say to you is..." Jim took in an overly-dramatic deep breath before speaking. "Agent Orange."

The gunshot rang through the alley, and a fine red mist sprayed across Jim's crisp white shirt as the lifeless body slumped in front of him. Sebastian looked down at his hand, almost shocked to see that he was holding the rather messy looking end of his pistol. Fucking bastard had used it, actually used it! Their trigger phrase. Agent Orange. The "shoot instantly and don't ask any fucking questions" phrase that Jim had drilled into him. And for what?

"Christ's fucking sake Jim! Is this really it? The fucker took too long in line at the goddamn market?" Sebastian wasn't normally one to raise his voice, let alone to his boss, but this was finally too much. He quickly grabbed Jim by his thin wrist, dragging the smaller man down to the opposite end of the alley from which they had entered. His boss trailed behind him easily, hollow giggles echoing through the empty alley.

"Fuck! I mean... just... fuck!" His curses rang off the concrete walls as he pulled Jim along. The criminal had no response; the delicate man simply continued to snicker as his sniper dragged him along. The only thing that tempered Sebastian's building rage was the familiar sight of their black town car waiting for them once the alley emptied back out into another street. Without hesitation, he opened the door and flung Jim inside, diving in after him.

"Drive!" he barked to Josaphat, who thankfully obliged. Sebastian really did like the man, it would have been a shame to have to put a bullet in him for hesitating. The car kicked into motion, and their chauffeur wove the monstrous car into traffic like the seasoned professional he happened to be. Once they were safely on their way and there was no indication that they were being followed, Sebastian finally allowed himself to relax back into the leather seats. Jim's cackling laughter finally died down, and he turned his black eyes to Sebastian.

"Oh my GOD!" he exclaimed, lilting voice nearly manic. "Did you see his face? Of course not. You were behind him. But you should have seen his face!" Jim pantomimed an exaggerated, fearful look before finally collapsing in giggles again. "Priceless, Sebby. It was priceless." All Sebastian could do was roll his eyes and growl.

"Completely unnecessary is more like it, sir." The sniper's voice was roughened by frustration. Glaring daggers at his boss, he removed his tuxedo jacket and began to wipe the barrel of his gun clean. He'd need to clean it more thoroughly when they got home, but that would do for now. The scarred blonde kept the gun in his hand, available in case they got pulled over for any reason. The way things had gone, it was simply going to be a shoot first and ask questions later kind of night. His ears picked up the sound of sirens in the distance, and there'd undoubtedly be a bit on the news tomorrow, but no-one seemed to be immediately trailing them. Thankfully.

"Awwww, what's the matter Tiger?" Cobalt eyes couldn't help but focus on the criminal's mouth as those plush lips pursed into a mockery of a pout. Jim's lips were still slightly swollen and red from the evening's previous (and much more pleasurable) activities. Between the posturing of that lovely mouth, the matching shade of red blood sprayed on the smaller man's shirt and the positively obscene look in Jim's dark eyes, Sebastian felt his cock give an involuntary twitch. Goddamnit. Evidently they had enough angry fucks that his body registered fury and arousal together. His response to the lithe brunette really was Pavlovian.

"I'm sorry," Jim purred as he nuzzled against his sniper's torso, voice dripping with venomous insincerity. "I thought you were my sniper, Moran. My hired gun. You shoot when I tell you to, and you don't get pissy about it afterwards."

"Buuu~uuuuut. Well. That was a bit impetuous even for me." That satiny voice dropped an octave as the biting tone was abandoned in favor of something far more silken and sultry. One ivory finger traced its way down the Sebastian's bicep and the sniper fought back an anticipatory shiver. God. Murder really did get them both a bit hot, didn't it? At this point in a disagreement he and Jim would normally be fighting it out; Jim cursing and trying to land strikes on Sebastian as the larger blonde grabbed at the mastermind's wrists in an attempt to pin and subdue the smaller man. Instead, the smell of gunpowder and blood hung heavy in the interior of the car, and Sebastian could tell from the widened pupils swallowing up the nearly black irises of Jim's eyes that they were going to skip straight to the shagging part of the argument.

"I do know how you just love to plan, and plan, and plan," his mastermind sighed. "I suppose it's your nature; always the sniper before the simple back-alley thug." Jim's voice sent bolts of pleasure shivering through the scarred blonde's spine as his spidery hand continued to trail down his forearm, coming to rest lightly over his tanned wrist. The madman's other hand came up and took the gun from Sebastian, laying it carefully on top of the blonde's discarded tuxedo jacket on the seat next to him. Despite their seeming fragility those long fingers were surprisingly strong as they closed around Sebastian's wrist and pulled upward. There was no fighting that hypnotic voice, and Sebastian simply allowed his arm to go slack in Jim's grip as the mastermind lifted his hand to his mouth.

"You know," he whispered, grazing his lips across Sebastian's fingertips. "It's your sheer professionalism that drew me to you in the first place." Almost tentatively, the mastermind's pink tongue flicked out, and he delicately tongued the tip of his sniper's trigger finger. "And these fucking hand of yours. Those were quite the selling point as well." That tormenting tongue began to move in slow circles around the tip of Sebastian's finger, lathing the well defined ridges of his fingerprint with his tongue.

"Christ" he groaned in response to the consultants ministrations. For as rough as they were, Sebastian's hands were still peculiarly sensitive. The parts of his hands that weren't armored by callouses sung with sensation as Jim let his velvety lips and tongue travel up and down the full length of each finger on his hand, stopping slightly to run the tip of each finger between his teeth before moving onto the next digit. Each swipe of that teasing tongue sent a pulsing wave of pleasure crashing through him, cresting against the already growing tightness in his abdomen.

When he had finally finished lavishing attention on each finger individually, Jim dropped his sniper's hand and moved a bit closer to the larger man. With one smooth, well practiced movement he turned around and straddled Sebastian, causing his sniper to give an appreciative groan at the feel of the criminal's warm weight settling over his aching groin.

Jim's lean thighs tensed as he started to grind himself down against the larger blonde beneath him. They both moaned in response to the friction. Sebastian's groan was tinged at the edges with a rough growl, while the criminal atop him sounded a bit breathier in his vocalizations. Time moved with an excruciating slowness as the lithe, dark haired man undulated against him. The bastard made sure to rock his hips so that each pass of his groin and thighs met Sebastian's with a pressure that was never quite enough.

"Nngh. Jim," he gasped, pushing his hips upwards so that his hardening length rubbed a bit against the criminal writhing atop him. It wasn't a plea, not exactly. But his already deep voice was low and rough with sheer want. Wordlessly, Jim dismounted; rolling easily back into the seat next to Sebastian as his long fingers started to pick at the buttons of his shirt. The lack of sensation and heat against his groin caused the larger man to completely freeze for a moment.

"You look good in that tux, but if you want to fuck me you at least have to take your trousers off, Moran." Jim snapped. His voice was an odd mix of sarcasm, amusement, frustration, and lust. His lilt tangled obscenely around all his vowels just as surely as his tongue had obscenely tangled around Sebastian's cock and fingers earlier. The thought kicked the sniper into motion; the idea of Jim's clever mouth on his cock making it impossible to stay clothed for even a second longer.

The slender brunette divested himself of his tuxedo quickly. So quickly, in fact, that he was naked on the seat next to his sniper before Sebastian had fully gotten his trousers off. When he saw that his sniper was not fully undressed he gave a frustrated growl. One long fingered hand slid between his legs, and the impatient criminal wrapped ivory digits around his own cock. Wordlessly he began to fuck his fist as the sniper struggled to get the clasp on his trousers undone; his task made more difficult by the obscenely distracting, breathy whimpers that were falling from Jim's still-swollen lips.

"Fucking hell. Get back up here you bastard," he growled, voice low and threatening as he clasp finally gave and he finished stripping off his pants and trousers, toed off his shoes, and deposited the lot of clothing on the the floor of the car. Hadn't he been teased enough at the restaurant? Jim complied with a wicked grin, lithely straddling Sebastian's lap once more. His thin chest glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, pink nipples pebbled and standing out against the ivory backdrop of the criminal's skin. Unable to help himself the sniper bent his head and drew one into his mouth. Jim writhed and gasped as the blonde worked the sensitive flesh with tongue and teeth, only stopping when the consultant's pleasured cries started taking on a sharp, pained edge. He repeated his ministrations on the other snipple, raising his hand and occasionally thumbing the over-sensitive nub on the other side of the criminal's chest. The way the extra touch made Jim groan and bounce on his lap caused his cock to pulse. He was already obscenely fucking hard, and he could feel where the tip of his dick was leaving thin trails of precome against his lower abdomen as his mastermind rocked against him.

"If you don't fucking do something to get yourself ready in the next sixty seconds, I can't be responsible for what happens," he cautioned. Jim have him a darkly sultry smile, grinding himself against Sebastian for a few more seconds before pulling away just enough to get a hand between them. Moriarty let his fingers dance across the planes of his sniper's pectorals before sliding it between his pale, slender legs.

Jim reached behind himself, arching his lower back and giving an obscene moan. It occurred to Sebastian's lust hazed brain that the diminutive brunette hadn't even so much as sucked on his own fingers. God, was he going to prep himself dry? The thought was almost troubling, but the sniper was too far gone to care. All he wanted, no needed, was to bury himself in the plush heat of that perfect arse. A slick, wet sound shook him from his reverie, and he brought his steely blue eyes up to meet Jim's lusty black gaze.

The criminal gave him another sinfully wicked smile as he held up a well-lubed plug for Sebastian's inspection, holding it still for a few seconds before he casually tossed it onto the floor of the car. It wasn't just any plug, either. It was the stainless steel plug that Sebastian had gotten him right before a two week assignment that spanned the better part of eastern Europe. He had left the mastermind with instructions to wear the heavy toy as frequently as he could stand, as Jim would undoubtedly need the looseness for what Sebastian planned on putting him through upon his return. As it turned out, the toy served its purpose well. Neither Jim nor Sebastian left the flat for at least two days after his return home.

At the sight of the familiar device, the tights coils of pleasure that had knotted themselves in the sniper's abdomen became a tempest of pleasure as he thought about Jim wearing that fucking toy all night long. The image of his boss underneath the table at the restaurant, Sebastian's thick cock down his throat and heavy steel plug in his arse was damn near enough to push him over the edge just thinking about it. Impaled from both ends, starved for pleasure as he sucked Sebastian to completion; no wonder the smaller man was more than willing to fuck him in the back of a moving car. A sharp slap to his cheek shook Sebastian from his thoughts. As he came back to himself, he found a rather miffed Jim shifting his weight atop him..

"I don't know what the fuck you were thinking about, but if you don't focus on me right the fuck now you're going to be very, very sorry," he groaned, grasping the thick base of Sebastian's prick and positioning the head at his stretched, wet entrance. With one fluid roll of his hips, he seated the sniper fully inside him. The smaller man gave a sort of strangled cry as the head of his sniper's dick penetrated the initial ring of tight muscle, but it didn't slow him one bit. Not allowing any time for adjustment, the consultant began to rock his his hips fitfully, twisting himself slightly every few thrusts as he searched for the right angle. Jim's breathing had taken on a desperate edge, each panting breath sharp as he raised his hips and thrust himself down hard on the blonde's cock.

Once the smaller man leaned forward a bit more he found what he had been looking for; pushing himself against Sebastian with a shuddering cry that was more akin to a yowl than a moan as the head of his prick grazed the sensitive cluster of nerves inside him. After the initial tremors of shocked pleasure passed, he began to build up more speed, gasping each time the fat head of the sniper's length passed across his prostate.

"Jesus fuck, Seb," he growled. As the smaller man gave a particularly hard thrust, his throaty growl transitioned to more of a whimper. One hand dug long, pale fingers into the scarred flesh of Sebastian's shoulder while the other wandered down to grasp the sniper's wrist, removing his large hand from his waist. Drawing it up between them, Jim gave his favorite employee a lascivious glare through dark lashes as he drew the first two fingers on his hand into his mouth, using them to simulate the fellatio that he had so skillfully performed at the restaurant. It was almost too much. Sebastian could feel his arousal building to the inevitable climax, a hot, heavy feeling growing low in his groin as his balls tightened and prepared for release. Fitfully, he pushed his hand between their torsos, rough fingers coiling desperately around Jim's cock as he pumped it in time with the canting of the criminal's hips.

Jim merely moaned around his fingers and thrust himself down onto Sebastian faster and harder, positively keening in the back of his throat with each soft slap of flesh against flesh. Finally Jim quieted as he neared his own completion, letting Sebastian's fingers fall wetly from his slack mouth. Dark eyes closed in blissful concentration, his expression bordered on sublime elation. Sebastian rubbed his thumb along the underside of the criminal's ruddy head, pressing against the sensitive glans before pushing upwards, flicking his fingernail across the leaking slit. Jim gave a shocked cry as his whole body tensed, then spasmed as orgasm wracked him with insuppressible tremors. A familiar wet warmth spread along Sebastian's fingers and his his abdomen in sticky streams.

As the crushing heat he was buried in convulsed and shuddered around him, Sebastian could feel his own pleasure starting to crest. He continued to work Jim through his orgasm, calloused fingers stroking the criminal's swollen shaft, milking every last drop of semen out of his twitching cock. After a few more thrusts into the constricted heat of Jim's arse Sebastian was coming too, his heart pulsing in time with his cock as he filled the mastermind with hot jets of semen as his vision whited out around the edges.

Then, everything was still. His hand fell away from Jim's spent cock, sticky with fluid. The criminal himself, equally limp, fell forward onto Sebastian's chest, resting his forehead on the sniper's shoulder as he fought to get his breath under control.

"We should eat out more often," he said with tired giggle, sliding off Sebastian and depositing himself on the seat next to the sniper. How was it that the little fuck could talk again so soon? All Sebastian managed was a grunt of agreement; words still well beyond his ability.

"Grab tissues from my jacket," Jim ordered as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the leather seat. It took the blonde a moment of rooting around on the floor to find what Jim had requested, but when he did he handed the packet up to his boss without hesitation. A few swipes of tissue cleaned the mastermind off just enough that he felt comfortable. Jim gave a bit of an irritated frown as he looked down at his full hands. The look only lasted a moment, as mischievous dark eyes met Sebastian's with a grin. Jim balled up the used tissues and tossed them at the back of their chauffeur's head before fetching his pants and trousers off the floor and started pulling them on.

He must have given the tux up for lost; in the past Jim had no qualms about walking from the car to the elevator and then into their flat fully nude to avoid getting mess on his precious clothes. Then again, with the blood spatter on the shirt the whole damn outfit was due for incineration anyway. As was he his own. That was a bit of a pity. The sniper rooted about for his clothing as well, and had just managed to finish getting dressed when they pulled into the garage of their building.

"Well. I'd consider that a successful date, wouldn't you Tiger?" Jim broke the silence as they exited the vehicle, leaving behind a likely chagrined Josaphat to clean up their mess.

"Fuck, yes. But Jim? Next time I'm picking our date. Another public antic like that and you're liable to give me a fucking heart attack." In response, his mastermind gave a sly shrug.

"Maybe that's the point. I'm just seeing how much strain your blackened, rotten lump in your chest can put up with before it simply explodes." All Sebastian could do was level the smaller man with his best cold glare.

"Fine," Jim murmured, waving his hand dismissively. "Next time you pick. But I'm only agreeing because I'm feeling particularly well shagged at the moment. Now c'mon," he demanded, tugging at his sniper's wrist to draw him closer to their private elevator. "I don't much feel like a cuddle, but I'd love to order in some Tiramisu. Maybe if you manage to stay tolerable for long enough I'll join you on the couch while you watch that wretched program of yours." Sebastian struggled not to laugh. Post sex dessert was the Moriarty equivalent of snuggling. It was made all the more amusing by the fact that Jim seemed to be completely unaware of the correlation.

"Sounds good to me, boss." On an impulse, he tugged the slender man closer and kissed the top of Jim's head like he had at the restaurant, when the man was in his fake persona. The gesture earned him a grimace and a quick strike to the kidney along with sharp laugh, which the sniper returned.

"Just checking," he chuckled. Jim answered by kicking him in the shin as he walked through the lift doors. Sebastian couldn't help the broad smile that stretched across his lips. It was going to be a good night.

* * *

_**And that completes round two! As always, my dears, if you have any requests, prompts, or suggestions for the next MorMor Date Adventure please do send it my way! I aim to please, and even though I'm slow as fuck when it comes to getting around to them I will try to accommodate anyone that sends something in. Next time, tune in for a more dominant Sebastian, as requested by Professor Plum!**_


End file.
